This is one of the chapters with unexpected turns. Reading it feels like being on an emotional roller coaster. Let's take this ride together: Svidrigailov loves putting on a show for us.
Dunya certainly wouldn't have gotten away with manslaughter. I've been wondering—if she had followed her brother's actions and slipped away unnoticed from the crime scene, what would she have done next? That would have made an epic plot.
It’s a pity though that Dostoevsky didn’t like Poles very much, being a Great Russian chauvinist. Does that bother you? Whenever Poles appear in his fiction they are invariably thieves, cheats and scoundrels.
It's an exaggeration to say that he had any particularly negative attitude towards Poles. This is an eternal problem of all neighboring nations - writing nasty things about each other, looking for flaws. Dostoevsky lived with Poles in a prison camp and had friends among them, and he also defended some of them in the press later.
For Dostoevsky, nationality was merely a description of a person, not character - he wrote much worse things about Russians.
Perhaps he made an exception for the Poles he met in real life. But at the level of his ideas, he didn't even think Poland should be an independent nation.
Take this scene from the Karamazov Brothers, for example:
//The other three bottles Mitya had brought with him were put on the table. Mitya filled the glasses.
“To Russia! Hurrah!” he shouted again.
All drank the toast except the Poles, and Grushenka tossed off her whole glass at once. The Poles did not touch theirs.
“How's this, panovie?” cried Mitya, “won't you drink it?”
Pan Vrublevsky took the glass, raised it and said with a resonant voice:
“To Russia as she was before 1772.”
“Come, that's better!” cried the other Pole, and they both emptied their glasses at once.
“You're fools, you panovie,” broke suddenly from Mitya.
“Panie!” shouted both the Poles, menacingly, setting on Mitya like a couple of cocks. Pan Vrublevsky was specially furious.
“Can one help loving one's own country?” he shouted.//
Immediately after this scene, these Poles are accused of cheating at cards, and are thrown out of the house. It's not very pleasant.
Yes, such is the harsh truth about 19th century writers. Pushkin wrote poorly about Poles, as did Gogol, and Tolstoy and Dostoevsky were no exception. But, interestingly enough, Dostoevsky might have had Polish roots, as his family originated from the Grand Duchy of Lithuania, which was part of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. This is very ironic.
Regarding this excerpt from the Karamazovs, Polish writer Zbigniew Żakiewicz recalled that the first question he asked himself upon reaching this "Polish" episode in "The Brothers Karamazov" was: "Why are we like this?" Only then came the next question: "Could Dostoevsky have been wrong?"
And contemporary Polish philosopher Bronisław Łagowski, lamenting the prevailing morals in Polish politics, writes in an article with the predictable title "Poles as Depicted by Dostoevsky":
There's a well-known scene from "The Brothers Karamazov" where Poles appear in their characteristic poses, full of pride and dignity, and immediately turn out to be fraudsters and cheats, with one of them willing to give up his mistress for money. Anyone in Poland today who doesn't see the typicality of this scene is not living the life of their nation.
Yes, good points. But there is a difference between compatriots criticising each other, and outsiders doing it.
When Poles criticise other Poles, this is a kind of in-family disagreement. When Russians criticise Poles, it is a slander against the nation, and often has political or military overtones, such as the end of Polish independence.
No matter how much Poles might disagree with each other, they all want their nation to exist and not to be absorbed into a larger entity like Russia.
Wow, what a chapter! When that door locks… is there anything more chilling?
Dunya’s refusal to go with Svidrigailov immediately brought me back to Part One, where Rodion is so adamant that he won’t let Dunya sacrifice herself for him. I can’t help but wonder: what would have happened to Rodion—or what might he have done to himself—if she had sacrificed herself here? The shame and despair would have been unimaginable for him.
I also found this comment from Svidrigailov particularly intriguing: “He has suffered a great deal and is still suffering from the idea that he could make a theory, but was incapable of boldly overstepping the law, and so he is not a man of genius.” I’m trying to decide whether I agree with Svidrigailov’s interpretation—that Rodion’s suffering stems not from guilt over his actions but from his inability to murder with abandon, falling short of his own standard of greatness. Hm…
Thank you for your article! As always, you’ve highlighted so much I missed on my first read.
Welcome back. You were sadly missed.
If Dunya had succeeded, she might have been tried for pre meditative murder. She put that revolver in her pocket for a reason.
Thank you. I like your new avatar!
Dunya certainly wouldn't have gotten away with manslaughter. I've been wondering—if she had followed her brother's actions and slipped away unnoticed from the crime scene, what would she have done next? That would have made an epic plot.
What excellent commentary! I can see that it is a real labour of love for you.
I'm glad I came across your account. You deserve many more likes for these posts. 😊
Thank you very much. 🤍 Perhaps one day the community will grow.
Yes, you deserve it.
It’s a pity though that Dostoevsky didn’t like Poles very much, being a Great Russian chauvinist. Does that bother you? Whenever Poles appear in his fiction they are invariably thieves, cheats and scoundrels.
It's an exaggeration to say that he had any particularly negative attitude towards Poles. This is an eternal problem of all neighboring nations - writing nasty things about each other, looking for flaws. Dostoevsky lived with Poles in a prison camp and had friends among them, and he also defended some of them in the press later.
For Dostoevsky, nationality was merely a description of a person, not character - he wrote much worse things about Russians.
Perhaps he made an exception for the Poles he met in real life. But at the level of his ideas, he didn't even think Poland should be an independent nation.
Take this scene from the Karamazov Brothers, for example:
//The other three bottles Mitya had brought with him were put on the table. Mitya filled the glasses.
“To Russia! Hurrah!” he shouted again.
All drank the toast except the Poles, and Grushenka tossed off her whole glass at once. The Poles did not touch theirs.
“How's this, panovie?” cried Mitya, “won't you drink it?”
Pan Vrublevsky took the glass, raised it and said with a resonant voice:
“To Russia as she was before 1772.”
“Come, that's better!” cried the other Pole, and they both emptied their glasses at once.
“You're fools, you panovie,” broke suddenly from Mitya.
“Panie!” shouted both the Poles, menacingly, setting on Mitya like a couple of cocks. Pan Vrublevsky was specially furious.
“Can one help loving one's own country?” he shouted.//
Immediately after this scene, these Poles are accused of cheating at cards, and are thrown out of the house. It's not very pleasant.
Yes, such is the harsh truth about 19th century writers. Pushkin wrote poorly about Poles, as did Gogol, and Tolstoy and Dostoevsky were no exception. But, interestingly enough, Dostoevsky might have had Polish roots, as his family originated from the Grand Duchy of Lithuania, which was part of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. This is very ironic.
Regarding this excerpt from the Karamazovs, Polish writer Zbigniew Żakiewicz recalled that the first question he asked himself upon reaching this "Polish" episode in "The Brothers Karamazov" was: "Why are we like this?" Only then came the next question: "Could Dostoevsky have been wrong?"
And contemporary Polish philosopher Bronisław Łagowski, lamenting the prevailing morals in Polish politics, writes in an article with the predictable title "Poles as Depicted by Dostoevsky":
There's a well-known scene from "The Brothers Karamazov" where Poles appear in their characteristic poses, full of pride and dignity, and immediately turn out to be fraudsters and cheats, with one of them willing to give up his mistress for money. Anyone in Poland today who doesn't see the typicality of this scene is not living the life of their nation.
Yes, good points. But there is a difference between compatriots criticising each other, and outsiders doing it.
When Poles criticise other Poles, this is a kind of in-family disagreement. When Russians criticise Poles, it is a slander against the nation, and often has political or military overtones, such as the end of Polish independence.
No matter how much Poles might disagree with each other, they all want their nation to exist and not to be absorbed into a larger entity like Russia.
Huzzah! It’s wonderful to have you back, Dana!
Wow, what a chapter! When that door locks… is there anything more chilling?
Dunya’s refusal to go with Svidrigailov immediately brought me back to Part One, where Rodion is so adamant that he won’t let Dunya sacrifice herself for him. I can’t help but wonder: what would have happened to Rodion—or what might he have done to himself—if she had sacrificed herself here? The shame and despair would have been unimaginable for him.
I also found this comment from Svidrigailov particularly intriguing: “He has suffered a great deal and is still suffering from the idea that he could make a theory, but was incapable of boldly overstepping the law, and so he is not a man of genius.” I’m trying to decide whether I agree with Svidrigailov’s interpretation—that Rodion’s suffering stems not from guilt over his actions but from his inability to murder with abandon, falling short of his own standard of greatness. Hm…
Thank you for your article! As always, you’ve highlighted so much I missed on my first read.